


Aftermath

by menel



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M, Sibling Incest, Unrequited Love, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their second deployment in Puerto San Jose, things come to a head between the Becket brothers as the tension that's been building over the past several months finally needs an outlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

Raleigh remembered the first time it happened. He had been lying in his bunk dreaming. It had been the most vivid wet dream he’d had in about forever and when he came in his boxer shorts he’d just been on the cusp of consciousness. He’d heard a creak in the bunk above him as Yancy shifted, and then movement as Yancy climbed down. Raleigh had cracked open an eye, half-watching his brother pad his way to the bathroom, turn on the light and then close the door behind him. He’d wakened a bit more after that, lying in bed and staring straight up at his brother’s bunk. His body had been oddly tingling as though the nerve endings had been sensitized. The mess in his shorts made him feel uncomfortable and he decided he’d have to use the bathroom once Yancy was done. That hadn’t prevented him from reaching in and taking his cock in hand. He was already half-hard. Strange, seeing as he’d just come. He hadn’t been thinking as he began to stroke himself. He’d felt so sensitive. He’d spit into his palm and taken himself in hand again. His mind was fuzzy, and in his mind’s eye he’d caught a glimpse of his brother in the shower, one hand braced against the tiles as he jerked himself off. Raleigh had focused on that image, not thinking it strange that he was imagining his brother jerking off and his own movements had sped up. It was almost like they were in tandem, as though it were Yancy’s hand gripping him and that idea had sent him over the edge. He’d come hard, spilling all over himself and he’d known, absolutely _known_ , that Yancy had just done the same. When Yancy had finally come out of the bathroom, hair damp and skin still moist, Raleigh had reached out and caught his brother’s tee before Yancy could climb back into bed. 

“What just happened?” he’d asked, half-drowsily. 

Yancy had tossed him a warm, wet hand towel. “Go back to sleep, kiddo,” he’d said. 

The next day Raleigh was hyper aware of Yancy’s presence. His brother didn’t treat him any differently, but that didn’t matter. Raleigh caught himself staring at Yancy more than once, admiring his brother’s physique, the clear blue eyes that mirrored his own, Yancy’s warm laugh, and his rich voice. If Yancy noticed this extra scrutiny, he didn’t let on except for the one time he slung an arm about Raleigh’s shoulders just before they were about to go into a combat sim and said, “Get your head in the game, kid.” Raleigh had reveled in the sudden contact, his gaze immediately dropping to Yancy’s mouth before he looked up again. 

“Age before beauty,” he’d replied, the familiar refrain easily falling from his lips. 

Yancy had grinned and they’d gone into the sim to kick some Kaiju ass. Their scores were the highest as usual and no one would have guessed for a minute that anything was amiss between the Becket brothers.

* * * * *

The second time it happened was after a particularly difficult sim. Pentecost had altered the programming midway through the simulation (Raleigh hadn’t even thought that was possible until Tendo had informed him afterwards) to test their adaptability. They’d succeeded in defeating the projected Category IV in the end, but not without significant damage to their Jaeger and a breach to their hull. In an actual combat scenario, their conn-pod would’ve been flooded by water and they would have needed to evacuate via the escape pods. Yancy had been in a mood once they got out of the simulator, and after their dressing down by Pentecost both of them were in low spirits. The difference between them was that Raleigh was still riding the combat high that drifting always gave him, while Yancy, the more sedate between the two of them, was literally cooling off in the shower. Raleigh’s body was tingling again. It was that strange sensation of his nerve endings being set alight. He hadn’t felt anything like this since that night he’d jacked off to the image of his naked brother in the shower. It was no surprise to him that he sought Yancy out instead of looking for a sparring partner in the Combat Room. He knew where his brother was and while they normally used the communal showers, this time Yancy had taken a private stall. Raleigh barged right in shutting the stall door behind him even though there was no way it would lock now.

“Rals?” Yancy asked, his look saying ‘What the hell?’ 

“I can help you with that,” Raleigh told him. He didn’t need to look down to know that Yancy was hard. He could _feel_ it. It was the same reason why _he_ was hard, why his body felt like it was on fire. 

Yancy barked out a laugh, his eyes radiating amusement but Raleigh knew his brother well enough to detect the tension at the corners. Fight or flee. That was what was running through Yancy’s head. Raleigh read that thought as clearly as if it had been his own. 

“You don’t have to,” Raleigh said in answer to Yancy’s unvoiced thought. _You don’t have to do either of those things_ , he continued knowing the thought would carry over to his brother. 

A startled look passed through Yancy’s blue eyes, confirming that he’d understood Raleigh’s message. Raleigh took a step forward and instantly Yancy’s hand was on his chest. 

“Back off, Rals.” Yancy’s voice was low, laced with warning. 

Raleigh gauged his brother for a moment. The answer was ‘fight’ then. He was actually considering it. The damn thing wasn’t called Fight or Fuck Syndrome for nothing. If he couldn’t have Yancy one way, then the other way would do until . . . 

Raleigh took a step backwards. Yancy’s hand dropped from his chest. He slowed his breathing down, ignoring the hard ache between his legs. He could feel his brother doing the same and it helped. They were breathing in tandem, just like they had jerked off in tandem a little over a month ago. Their bodies were completely in tune and Raleigh knew that if he took himself in hand, Yancy would do the same. He could see the trepidation in Yancy’s eyes that he might actually do that and then Yancy would be powerless to resist. It was Yancy’s fear that was causing their breathing to speed to up again and Raleigh backed out of the stall completely, his heart now hammering both from Yancy’s distress and the knowledge that he had caused that distress. He still had to take care of the throbbing ache between his legs and he ducked into another shower stall at the end of the row to do so. He turned the shower on, felt the water sluicing down his back as he grabbed his cock and began to pump. When he came, the muffled cry of frustration and desire that he heard echoing in his mind and felt pulsing through his body didn’t belong to him, but to his brother at the other end of the shower stalls.

* * * * *

The third time it happened had been after Yamarashi. Raleigh had been high, so completely high and drunk on their first Kaiju kill. They had been in Los Angeles celebrating. Their first deployment hadn’t gone according to plan but the outcome was what mattered. Gipsy Danger had been assigned as the back up to Romeo Blue, the second Mark-1 Jaeger to be launched by the United States and the experienced piloting team of the Gage brothers. But Romeo Blue’s missile barrage had been unable to contain Yamarashi, the largest Category III Kaiju to emerge from the Breach so far and Gipsy Danger, guarding the mouth of the Los Angeles River, had taken over the fight. It had been brutal and none of the sims the Beckets had undergone could ever have truly prepared them for the real thing. But they had succeeded, beheading Yamarashi with a cargo crane wire along the port of Long Beach as they had driven the Kaiju toward Harbor Freeway. Despite the toxic Kaiju blood that threatened to compromise Gipsy’s conn-pod, they had managed to make it back to the Los Angeles base to be hosed down before any serious damage could be inflicted on the Jaeger. They had survived. More than that, they had been victorious and Gipsy was intact. She would need re-fitting but she’d demonstrated her battle worthiness. This was what celebrations were made for.

That’s what Raleigh had thought, feeling the adrenaline high mixing with the alcohol he had consumed coursing through him. It wasn’t just his high; it was Yancy’s too. He’d lost track of his brother during the celebration back at the ‘dome but it didn’t matter. He could _feel_ him; feel him as though Yancy were right beside him, his brother’s laugh in his ear, and his breath warm on his neck. Yancy’s presence was palpable, and through the haze of the alcohol, it remained a solid comfort in his mind underpinned by that current of desire that had been building over the last few months. The desire was mutual. Raleigh knew it even if his brother couldn’t bring himself to admit it. But words weren’t necessary in the drift, and they weren’t needed here when you could feel something like this in your bones, anchored in your very soul. 

So when Yancy took someone else to bed that night, Raleigh felt as though his soul had been crushed. The sensations had knocked him off of his feet. He’d staggered in the hallway of the Shatterdome, barely able to make it back to the shared guest quarters that the PPDC had provided for them. He knew that Yancy wouldn’t be there. His brother was discreet. He’d fallen into the lower bunk, drowning in his senses that were aflame with another’s touch, with a stranger’s kisses. He wanted to cry, to scream his frustration but his body betrayed him, climaxing when his brother did, and he lay spent in his bunk, loathing himself and resenting Yancy for doing this to both of them. It was irrational, but the rational part of his mind had switched off some time ago. 

When Yancy finally returned it was to the darkness of their temporary quarters. The celebrations were muted but still carrying on outside. As soon as Yancy had shut the door, Raleigh had pinned him against it, fisting his brother’s brown bomber jacket as he held him against the door. 

“Why?” Raleigh had asked, his voice close to breaking. “I would have done that for you.” 

“Rals,” Yancy had begun, his own voice gripped by something close to desperation, but Raleigh hadn’t wanted to hear it, couldn’t bear to hear it. He’d pushed past his brother, disappearing into the lighted hallway and the sounds of music and laughter. 

The flight back to the Icebox had been tense. Everyone in the helo could feel it. The tension remained as they’d been welcomed back and congratulated by the crews of Gipsy Danger, Brawler Yukon and Chrome Brutus. It lingered as Tendo slapped them on their backs, calling them “The Becket Boys” and it was there when Pentecost personally congratulated them in his office. 

The Marshal, ever observant, had known something was amiss. Nothing got past him, but he chose to ignore it, focusing instead on their new media responsibilities. The media had latched onto the Beckets after the Los Angeles attack and now the PPDC marketing and propaganda arm was going to make the most of their newly established celebrity. The fresh injection of All-American heroes – particularly of the young and attractive variety – was just what the Jaeger Program needed. If Pentecost had expected resistance from them (Jaeger pilots could be hit-or-miss when it came to the more bureaucratic aspects of becoming a war hero) he received none. Yancy had remained professional, nodding at all the right times and saying the brief, “Yes, sirs,” when needed. Raleigh, however, had a glazed look about him and when he finally met Pentecost’s eyes to give the Marshal a nod of acknowledgement, the older man thought there was something hollow there. It was disturbing to see when he knew that no one light’s shone brighter than the younger Becket brother, but he made no mention of it. Whatever was happening between the Beckets, they would have to sort it out. He would only intervene if it compromised their ability to pilot.

* * * * *

Yamarashi had been seven months ago. Nothing had quite been the same since. They were still an effective team. Their neural handshake was among the strongest on record (“One hundred percent neural handshake,” Tendo always said with pride) and their battle simulations still carried the highest kill ratio and efficacy in combat scenarios. They handled their media and PR responsibilities flawlessly, cultivating the image that the PPDC demanded of them – they were the new rock stars of the Jaeger Program. The Gipsy Danger action figure had become the number one selling Jaeger model in the past six months since her debut. But for all this traction, the Becket brothers felt broken.

Raleigh reflected on this as he drank a beer and watched the sun set from the hotel room that overlooked the beach. They were in Puerto San Jose, Guatemala and it was the evening of their second successful deployment, their second successful Kaiju kill. There would be more press to do; more recruitment drives to go on, more charity engagements to undertake aside from the usual training. But for now there was this, a quiet room (a seaside cabana, really) in the resort town of Puerto San Jose, famous for its surfing, while the locals celebrated on the beach and the town was brimming with the joy of being alive and unscathed by the Kaiju that had threatened its shores. 

The nearest base was in Panama City and protocol dictated that they should’ve walked Gipsy over after the battle with the Kaiju, but this fight had been easier than the one against Yamarashi and Gipsy remained in tip-top shape barring a few dents and scratches. Raleigh had wanted to stay and to his surprise, Yancy had agreed to Raleigh’s unspoken request in the drift. Gipsy had been airlifted back to Panama City and a helo would come pick them up the following day. The brothers had been planning to book a room in a nearby hotel but the owner of the Pacifica Resort wouldn’t hear of it. He gave them their best cabana free of charge and everything else at the hotel was at their disposal. (“It is good for business,” the owner and manager had declared. “To have the world-famous Becket brothers staying at Pacifica on this historic night!”) They could hardly refuse such generous hospitality. 

Yancy was in the bathroom taking a shower. Raleigh had already freshened up. He knew that he ought to wait for his brother. They hadn’t made any plans yet but it was common for them to at least have dinner together before going their separate ways. (Now they always went their separate ways.) But Raleigh could feel the pull of the music, could hear the voices of the people carrying over from the beach parties, could sense their energy. It hummed through him and he wanted to be with them, to lose himself in that crowd, in the vibrancy of these people. They were alive. They understood what it meant to _live_ , while he was a ghost, a shell of a man going through the motions of being a war hero and a Jaeger pilot. He wanted to forget all that for the night. He wanted to find someone he could share himself with. He was so lonely. He hadn’t understood the meaning of that word until recently, until he’d lost Yancy who’d been the rock that had supported him his whole life. They were adrift and he didn’t think they could find their way back to shore. The irony was that they were more connected now than ever, in each other’s heads and in each other’s hearts. He would never stop loving his brother, even if Yancy thought that love had been corrupted somehow, had turned dark and shameful. Just as they’d both learned to strengthen that link, to reach out when they needed to, Raleigh also knew that he could diminish it, could push it back to a corner of his mind, making it small and unobtrusive. He would do that tonight. He thought Yancy would appreciate the effort too, that his brother would know that Raleigh wasn’t with someone else out of malice or spite, that he’d do his best to protect his brother from the overflow of those feelings and emotions. It was the least he could do. 

Raleigh pushed himself off of the edge of glass sliding door on which he’d been leaning and walked over to the bathroom. He could still hear the shower running, could almost feel the warm water cascading on his skin. He knocked on the door. 

“Yance?” he called out. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m heading out, okay?” 

He waited a moment for a reply, knowing that Yancy had heard him. When he didn’t receive one he took that to be an acknowledgement and he rapped on the door again. 

“I’ll see you later,” he said. 

_I’ll see you tomorrow_ is what he meant. He drained the last of his beer and tossed the bottle in the trashcan of the kitchen before leaving the cabana.

* * * * *

Outside the air was balmy but not very humid. There were a few foreigners in the crowd – it was a resort town, after all – but for the most part Raleigh mingled easily. He knew that people recognized him, judging by the beers that kept getting thrust into his hand or the offers of free food and snacks at all the makeshift stalls and places he stopped. No one would let him pay for anything and everyone was all smiles and thanks. But they didn’t hassle him and he appreciated that.

It was around the bonfire that Raleigh spotted him. He was with a group of people and a young woman was dancing suggestively with him, rocking her hips into him as he held her waist. Raleigh watched them. The kid – he was young, younger than Raleigh – must’ve felt his scrutiny because he turned his head and their eyes met. His face broke into a smile and he disentangled himself from the woman despite her protests and made his way over to Raleigh, stopping in front of him. They didn’t speak. Still grinning, the kid reached down and took Raleigh’s beer from him, drinking from the bottle before handing it back. He nodded towards the dancing crowd and held out his hand. Raleigh’s smile grew wider and he grasped the kid’s hand, allowing the stranger to lead him back into the throng of dancing people. Then they were dancing too, the kid’s hands on his waist as their bodies moved in rhythm, and when Raleigh leaned in to kiss him, the kid welcomed him, returning the kiss with a wet tongue and a warm mouth and the scent of surf and sand.

* * * * *

The kid’s name was Carlo. Raleigh found that out when they were seated at one of the beachside eateries, their chairs so close together that Raleigh’s left leg was all but nestled in between Carlo’s thighs. Carlo claimed that he was nineteen, which would make him a year younger than Raleigh. Raleigh wasn’t so sure about Carlo’s age, but he could tell that Carlo was willing and comfortable in his skin and _probably_ legal. He knew that Carlo was beautiful with his olive skin, dark hair and warm hazel eyes. And vibrant. Carlos had that vibrancy about him that Raleigh had lost and he thought that if only he could be near it for one night maybe he could recapture some of it for himself. They kissed lazily and left lingering touches. They spoke more through gesture than verbal speech. Raleigh had passable high school Spanish and Carlo knew a smattering of English. It was enough to get by.

After several hours of dancing and eating and drinking, Raleigh brought Carlo back to the cabana. The kid was warm and pliant to his touch. They were still kissing when Raleigh pulled open the sliding door and they all but stumbled inside, laughing at their uncoordinated actions but unwilling to let go of each other. 

Raleigh did let go and was unable to stop his look of dismay when he saw Yancy standing in the living area of the cabana where they had just entered. He hadn’t expected his brother to be there. He’d forgotten about Yancy in Carlo’s company, had lost track of the connection that bound him so completely to his brother. But now he could feel the muted buzz in his mind and he knew that Yancy had been there all along, had perhaps tuned in while Raleigh had been distracted. Yancy was dressed in a gray faded tee and a pair of white shorts. He looked like he was ready for bed and it didn’t appear that he had gone out of the cabana at all. 

“Rals,” he said in greeting, but his gaze was fixed on Carlo. 

Raleigh was thinking ahead. The management would think it strange, but he could get a separate room so he and Carlo could have some privacy. He’d pay for the room too. He wouldn’t mind. 

Carlo was smiling at Yancy, his hand on Raleigh’s waist as he asked, “Tu hermano?” 

Raleigh nodded, giving Carlo a tight-lipped smile. Unless Carlo had been living under a rock, he must’ve recognized them. Dimly, he was aware that Carlo was asking if Yancy was going to join them. The idea was preposterous and Raleigh almost barked out a cruel laugh but Yancy’s response silenced him. 

“No,” his brother said. “I like to watch.” 

“You watch?” Carlo said slowly in his accented English. 

“Sí.” 

Raleigh’s gaze snapped to his brother. _What the fuck?_ Confusion was written all over his face. Voyeurism wasn’t Yancy’s thing. But Carlo apparently had no objections to the idea because he continued to smile at Yancy and when Yancy held out his hand, Carlo grasped it. Yancy pulled Carlo into the larger of the two bedrooms of the cabana and Raleigh had no choice but to follow. When they were inside, Yancy released Carlo’s hand and Carlo walked back to Raleigh, tugging him further into the room. 

Raleigh was distracted by his brother’s presence. He was too aware of Yancy now, who’d pulled up a chair and was sitting about a meter away from the side of the bed. Yancy couldn’t possibly be serious. 

But he was. Raleigh could feel Yancy in his mind, encouraging him, and then there was Carlo, assaulting him with kisses and touches and stripping them both. It was like a lock sliding into place when Raleigh finally responded and then he was on top of Carlo on the queen-sized bed. The kid was moaning and gasping, his body reacting to Raleigh’s touch. Raleigh was drunk on the moment. He hadn’t been intimate with anybody but his own hand in months. He didn’t question it when the lube appeared beside him or the condoms but he knew the supplies were Yancy’s doing. _Christ. Had his brother been planning this? How the fuck could he not know?_ He couldn’t think about that now, not when Carlo was begging to be touched. He slicked his right hand and then he was leaning over the kid, kissing him as he stroked him. Carlo was thrusting into his hand, eager and responsive. 

When Raleigh’s hand released Carlo’s cock and traveled lower between Carlo’s legs, finding and breaching that opening with his finger, the kid shifted underneath him, spreading his legs wider. A second finger joined the first and then a third. Raleigh was prepping him slowly, savoring the sounds that Carlo was making, the way he writhed beneath him. By the time Carlo was chanting, “Sí, sí, sí, sí,” over and over in his ear, Raleigh knew that he was ready. He turned Carlo over and the kid went willingly, grabbing one of the pillows and wrapping his arms around it as he buried his head in its softness. Raleigh grabbed another pillow and propped Carlo’s lower body with it before he took one of the condoms, rolled it onto himself and coated it with more lube. Then, for the first time since this craziness began, he locked eyes with Yancy as he held himself over Carlo’s prone body, his cock poised to breach that tight entrance. Yancy gave him a barely perceptible nod and Raleigh pushed in, sucking in his breath at the sudden enveloping heat. Carlo was already pushing back, muscles relaxing to accommodate him. Raleigh grinned to himself as he pushed in some more. The kid had experience. He should’ve known. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Raleigh could see Yancy dipping his hand into his shorts, his dick making a noticeable tent in the garment. His brother was going to jerk himself off while he fucked Carlo senseless. The idea was almost too much, but he locked eyes with Yancy again as he began to thrust. They were in sync just as they had been during all the other times in the past. Yancy’s hand moved in time to Raleigh’s thrusts and Raleigh could almost imagine that it was Yancy’s body that was the source of the heat and friction, just as he knew that Yancy could feel the tightness that was surrounding him. He had to tear himself away from his brother’s gaze, reminding himself that Carlo was beneath him and he’d always been very considerate towards his partners. He’d been holding Carlo by his hips to give him leverage, but now he snaked his right arm underneath Carlo, lifting his lower body up so that he had an even better angle. Carlo maintained the position, head still buried in the pillow as he anchored himself with his knees, back arched towards Raleigh. Raleigh reached around, taking Carlo’s neglected cock in his hand and he began to pump again. Carlo was close and he stifled his cry with the pillow as he spilled himself over Raleigh’s hand. Raleigh followed him over the edge, spilling deep inside his body as he collapsed on top of him, impressed that Carlo bore his weight until he pulled out and fell onto his side. 

It was only then that he noticed that Yancy was standing right beside the bed. His brother had stripped and was still as hard as a rock. Raleigh’s mouth went dry, eyes zeroing in on Yancy’s cock. He wanted to touch and to taste. Afraid that he would do so, he focused on removing the used condom from his softening dick, tying it up and tossing it into the wastebasket near the bed. 

Carlo had come back to his senses and he was moving, making space for Yancy on the bed. Yancy took the hint and settled in between them, his gaze never leaving Raleigh’s face. He lay down on his back and Raleigh moved to lie down beside him, careful not to touch him even though they were both naked now. Dimly, they were aware that Carlo had shifted over Yancy, pushing the elder Becket’s legs apart as he settled in between them. Yancy gasped and Raleigh could feel it too; Carlo had just taken Yancy in his mouth. Raleigh didn’t look down. All he could see was Yancy’s face and how his brother’s eyes had glazed over in pleasure. It was beautiful. 

“Yance,” he said softly, his hands tightly by his body lest they wandered somewhere unwanted. “May I kiss you?” 

The haze cleared from Yancy’s eyes and suddenly their crystalline blue depths were piercing. “Come here,” he said roughly, reaching out and pulling Raleigh toward him. 

The kiss was uncoordinated but it didn’t matter. Yancy was everything Raleigh wanted and needed and as they began the exploration of mouth and tongue, he felt a completeness that had eluded him for months. Yancy’s hand was at the back of his neck and Raleigh had pressed himself against his brother’s side, his right hand gripping Yancy’s shoulder. 

Yancy broke the kiss only once to briefly shoot Carlo a dirty look that told the kid to stop teasing. But then Raleigh’s mouth was on him again and Yancy was drowning in the sweetness of his own brother. When he came it was with Raleigh’s name on his lips, his cry swallowed by his brother’s taste as Raleigh held him through his release.

* * * * *

Raleigh didn’t remember getting under the covers or cleaning up for that matter but that’s where he found himself the next morning as sunlight streamed through the bedroom. There was an arm slung about his waist and a body spooned up behind him. He remembered Carlo but knew that it wasn’t Carlo pressed against him. Carlo would’ve been in _his_ arms, a lean and lithe form, not the firmness of that chest or the weight of a well-built arm.

 _Yancy_ , his mind supplied. 

Raleigh didn’t dare turn around or move. He might wake up from this dream or his brother might wake up and then that would really be the end of it. 

“It’s too early to be thinking so hard,” a voice rough with sleep said. 

Raleigh almost laughed to release his nervous energy. Instead he asked, “Where’s Carlo?” 

“Kid left at the crack of dawn,” Yancy told him, nuzzling the back of his neck. “Can you believe he’s a fisherman? Said he had to go out with the fishing boats or his dad would have his hide.” 

“After last night?” Raleigh asked incredulously. 

Yancy laughed. “Kid’s dedicated . . . or his dad would have his hide.” He pulled Raleigh a little closer to him, kissing him on the shoulder before settling back again. 

“Yance?” Raleigh asked before his brother could doze off. 

“We’re going to be fine, Rals,” Yancy answered, circumventing all the questions that were running around Raleigh’s head. “We’re going to be just fine. Go back to sleep, kiddo.” 

Raleigh pressed a kiss to his brother’s hand before holding it tightly against his chest. He closed his eyes and let sleep claim him. Yancy was right. They’d found their way back to shore. They were whole again. Together, they were invincible. 

 

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

>  _Pacific Rim_ belongs to Guillermo del Torro, Warner Bros and Legendary Pictures. No offense is intended, no profit is being made.


End file.
